This story originally appeared in the fanzine 'Angel's
Heart' published by VisionQuest Press.  For anyone 
interested, VisionQuest is set to publish 'Angel's
Heart 2'.  If you're interested in ordering or just
more information, please email: vqpress@zeelandnet.nl

Title: Everlasting Moon
Author: JR
Email: JRR42@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13 
Category: Drama  
Summary: Six years after graduation, two old friends 
	run into each other.
Distribution: No, not at this time. 
Will eventually be available at:
  www.angelfire.com/de/theparlor/buffy.html
Feedback: Hell, yes!  

Disclaimer:  All characters belong to Mutant Enemy/
Joss/WB and are used without permission.  This story 
is not intended to infringe upon any copyrights, nor 
is any profit being made from it.

Thanks:  To Carrie and Marius for their beta efforts.
This is a beta copy of the story -- not the fully 
edited zine version.  So any typos are mea culpa.

Dedicated to Marius for our 2am beach conversations 
on the meaning of life.  See you at the Hawiian.  
I love you.  

This one came from a comment DB made when asked to
reveal a ‘weird quirk’ about himself.  He answered 
that he ‘liked to dig his butt into the sand at the
beach.’  Some of you list 'old timers' might 
remember the quote in question ;-)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
‘Hanging in the sky, the perfect alibi,
Baby, come outside with me, there’s this moon
you’ve got to see.
Smiling every place, with his laser-painted face,
Light of love in each moonbeam, won’t you step in
my dream?’
--Everlasting Moon, Jimmy Buffett


	‘Has it really been six years?’ Angel
thought to himself as he wandered through the
town that he had once called home.  It was hard to
believe this was the same Sunnydale that he had so
abruptly left behind after Mayor Wilkens’ failed
ascension attempt.   

	As Angel slowly ambled onward, he did his
best to stick to the shadows.    Unfortunately, it
was no longer as easy as it used to be.   The streets,
which had once upon a time been wisely deserted
at this time of night, were teaming with people of
all ages.    Between the crowds of people out and
about on a Friday evening and the powerful street
lamps that had been installed after he left, Angel
felt numerous pairs of eyes upon him.

	Eyes that were filled with pity.

	The vampire was uncertain if it was all the
walking he was doing or simply some kind of
psychosomatic reaction to the stares he was
receiving, but the constant ache he lived with every
day was suddenly growing into a relentless throb.  
He supposed that he really should not be
complaining.    After being crushed under 2,000
pounds of concrete, the vampire was lucky not to
be in a decorative urn on Cordelia’s mantle.  But
Angel was not one for excessive gratitude and
happy thoughts.   He had used up his lifetime’s
allotment of both a long time ago.   What he really
needed was to be alone at that moment, away from
all the happy-go-lucky people of Sunnydale.

	He needed to be alone with his memories of
this place -- both good and bad.

	Looking at his surroundings, Angel
wondered where he could go to escape.   It was
apparent that Main Street was no longer well suited
to his needs.   Once upon a time, Sunnydale’s
downtown had reeked of death -- a slow, lingering,
painful death caused by the defection of consumers
to either the Sunnydale mall or to the local
WalMart.   What few shops that had not been
driven out of business all closed promptly at six
every night of the week.  Of course, the fact that
vampires roamed freely throughout the area killing
potential customers did not do much to drum up
business, either.

	Apparently, downtown Sunnydale had
undergone one of those ‘neighborhood
revitalization’ programs during Angel’s absence. 
Now, instead of deserted storefronts and cheap
five-and-dime’s, everywhere he looked, there were
artsy, yuppie-type establishments.   Creative
jewelry and clothing stores were flanked by
rollerblade rental shops and trendy bars.   It seemed
as if every corner had one of those
pseudo-intellectual coffeehouses that poured liquid
caffeine into cups so ridiculously large, it could
drive a narcoleptic from coma to postal in a single
serving.   Speaking of coffee, there was even a
second Starbucks in town these days.

	Cordelia would be so impressed.

	But his faithful, evil-fighting sidekick had
elected to visit her parents at their new house in
San Francisco for the week.   She had, of course,
invited Angel to join her.   The thought, however,
of recuperating at the home of the pretentious Mr.
and Mrs. Chase made Angel’s blood run even
colder than it normally did.   Promising Cordy that
he would leave Los Angeles while she was unable
to protect his back, the vampire had opted to return
to his former town for the first time in six years.

	Not that he recognized much of it,
anymore.

	Angel continued to limp awkwardly down
the street, still pondering his options on how to kill
some time that evening.   The hotel room he had
rented early in the evening was not an option.    If
he had desired moping around a non-descript room,
he would have stayed at his own apartment in Los
Angeles.   Having burned down to the ground the
previous year, the old mansion on Crawford Street
was no longer available.   The Bronze was also out
of the running.   Angel had passed by it earlier that
evening and been stunned by the run-down
appearance of the place.   The smell of stale liquor
and old urine around the entrance only reinforced
the scum-like quality of the roughnecks Angel saw
entering the former teen club.    It was another of
his memory’s landmarks lost to slow changes he
had not been around to witness.

	For a moment, the vampire considered
making the trek over to the Sunnydale High School
library, but he soon thought better of it.    Like
everything else around him, the library had changed
since his last visit.   After the explosion that
destroyed the demonic Mayor Wilkens, the library
had been completely rebuilt.  Besides, the place just
would not have been the same without Giles’
all-too-familiar presence.

	Angel supposed that he could go over to
Joyce Summers’ place, as   Buffy’s mother still
lived in town.  In fact, Angel had made plans to see
her the following evening,  since she already had
pre-existing plans for tonight.   Despite his
nervousness in calling her after such a prolonged
silence, Joyce had been both surprised and
delighted to hear from her daughter’s former
boyfriend.  There was genuine, honest truth in her
voice when she insisted that he come by the house
to at least say hello.   Only after he had hung up the
phone did Angel realize how lonely it must be for
Joyce here in Sunnydale.   She was, after all, the
only person with a direct part in the ‘Slayerettes’
still left in town.

	‘Why did I ever come back here?’ Angel
thought miserably to himself.  
	
	Limping painfully, he continued his aimless
wandering, not quite knowing for what he was
searching.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

	Perhaps it was the hint of salt that
constantly flavored Sunnydale’s air, or maybe it
was simply knowing that it would be the one place
in town that would not have changed in his
absence, but twenty minutes later, Angel found
himself at the otherwise-deserted Sunnydale beach.

	Brooding as he -- quite painfully -- leaned
forward to remove his shoes and socks, Angel
could not help noticing the symmetry between
himself and his surroundings.   Like the vampire,
the beach was dark and mysterious, old and
unchanging in comparison to what was happening
in the world around it.   Like the sea, Angel had his
secrets -- terrible ones that would forever be lost in
the depths of his mind.

	Hobbling carefully down the gentle slope of
the handicap access ramp, Angel paused for just a
moment to drop his shoes and socks over the side.  
Not used to navigating inclines, the vampire needed
both his hands free in order to grip the railings for
support.   His descent was three minutes of sheer
agony, but the moment he felt the cool sand under
his bare feet, Angel knew the pain had been worth
it.

	Even when he had been a resident of the
town, he never spent that much time here.   Most
vampires avoided the area when they could.   Too
often deserted to be considered good feeding
grounds, beaches in general were usually too far
away from sufficient places of refuge from the
morning sun.   The comforting feeling of sand
between one’s toes was hardly worth getting
turned into an ashy briquette if one stayed out a
few minutes too long.

	The lingering salt of the sea air tickling his
sense of smell had a calming effect on the vampire. 
For the first time since he arrived in town, the
sickly knot in Angel’s stomach showed signs of
easing off ever so slightly.   Considering how tense
he was at the moment, it was not a great
improvement, but Angel had learned long ago that
sometimes one had to take what little one could
get. 

	It was only after taking a few pain-inducing
steps that the vampire realized the lunacy of his
impulsiveness.   The uneven, sinking nature of the
sand impeded his already awkward gait even
further.   Biting back a growl of frustration at his
own limitations, Angel refused to do the logical
thing and turn back toward the way he had come.  
‘Besides,’ Angel tried to motivate himself, ‘didn’t
Whistler tell me that I need to keep working my
muscles if I wanted to heal completely?  Of course,
somehow I don’t think that he was referring to
four-mile long midnight strolls, though.’   Setting
aside his common sense, Angel pressed forward,
moving closer to the water.    

	The ocean was calm that night -- well, as
calm as the Pacific ever got, at any rate.   The
flowing echo of the waves meeting the sandy shore
was a soothing sound to the vampire’s ears.  
‘Small, smaller, small, bigger.  Small, small, big,’
Angel considered the size of the waves, trying --
and miserably failing -- to tap into the rhythm of
Nature herself.   But Nature had been marching to
her own beat for millions of years -- far too long to
give up any of her secrets, even to the world’s only
vampire with a soul. 

	Angel stopped a few feet away from the
water’s edge.   Every now and then his toes were
tickled by the foamy remnants of the larger waves.   
Although his condition prohibited him from
jumping back out of the water’s reach, the vampire
wouldn’t have given in to the impulse, even if he
had been able.   He was finding too much peace in
the way the ocean was teasingly caressing his flesh.

	Drawing in an unneeded breath, Angel sigh
in contentment as his gaze rose upward from the
shoreline.    Past the rocks and the breaking
whitecaps they caused, the vastness of the Pacific
stretched out in front of him.   It was almost as if
the ocean herself was taunting him with her
never-ending depths.    His eyes roamed over the
surface, observing the subtle shifts as the colors
changed from black to midnight blue to the
shimmering white reflection from the heavenly
body illuminating the night-darkened sky.

	The moon was painfully full that night,
almost appearing to defy gravity like a juicy,
over-ripe fruit dangling from a vine.   So powerful
was the light it reflected, Angel’s photo-sensitive
eyes teared over as he beheld the sight.   Once his
vision adjusted to the unusual brightness, he was
unable to prevent himself from being captured by
its distended beauty.

	The orb was so low in the sky, from his
current spot, it almost appeared that it would sink
into the ocean’s depths upon completion of its
nightly journey.   As it was, the moon seemed near
enough that Angel almost believed he could reach
it by walking on foot.    

	Stifling a chuckle over his own foolishness,
the vampire nevertheless felt the impulse to keep
moving.   With some luck he hoped to find a better
vantage-point to watch the moon as it moved
across the otherwise-darkened sky.   Turning south
in order to keep the heavenly body in his line of
sight, the vampire began his painful, yet strangely
cathartic journey.

	With each jarring step he took, Angel could
feel a small measure of the pain of the past three
months fall away.   So much had happened since
that night -- the hours of wondering if he would
survive his injuries, the uncertainty that he even
wanted to by that point, the days of drifting in and
out of unconsciousness, and the endless weeks and
months of therapy and recuperation.    There were
times that all of it seemed overwhelming, that once
again, he had managed to sidestep inevitable death
-- *real*, end-of-his-existence-type death.  
However, as always, Fate had managed to dole out
a severe punishment for foiling her plans. 

	‘Enough already!’  Angel scolded himself.  
He was alive, so to speak, and actually *walking*
on a beautiful stretch of beach under one of the
most magnificent moons he could recall in decades.   
He could certainly keep from brooding for one
lousy night, couldn’t he?   What was it that
Cordelia was always telling him?  

	‘Get over the past, Angel.  Live, like, in the
now, ‘cause you sure don’t know if there’s gonna
be a ‘soon’.’   

	Angel could almost hear Cordy’s voice
echoing in his head.   Not for the first time, the
vampire thanked the powers-that-be for the former
May Queen’s continued presence in his life, for her
persistence in maintaining their friendship.   It had
not always be so, though.    

	Angel, like so many others, had greatly
underestimated Cordelia Chase the first few years
he knew her.   He had dismissed her as flighty and
self-absorbed, uncaring about anything beyond how
it impacted her own life.    To a certain degree, that
assessment *was* pretty much on the mark.

	But Time and Fate had conspired against
Cordelia, taking away the lifestyle that was such an
intrinsic part of her character.   Alone and
disfranchised from her former world, it was
tough-going for Cordy when she first moved out to
L.A. -- at least until she ran into an old
acquaintance suffering from problems similar to her
own.    

	Angel and Cordelia’s initial encounters in
the City of Angels were rocky at best.   Even back
in Sunnydale, neither had considered the other to
be ‘a friend.’   It was mostly by default the way
they ended up spending so much time together.   At
first Cordy had simply needed a job to make ends
meet, and Angel just happened to need an assistant,
of sorts.   That position, however, ended up
expanding beyond either of their wildest dreams
over the years.    

	As time passed, the sharp edges of Cordelia
personality eroded away, allowing Angel to plainly
see the good heart that, for so long, had rested
beneath a self-imposed layer of snobbishness.  
Under that feigned air of superiority rested an
incredible well of common sense.   Abated by her
still razor-sharp tongue, Cordelia proved to have an
amazing knack for cutting straight through the
brooding guilt Angel wrapped around himself like a
cloak.   As their understanding of each other
continued to progress, he found himself relying
upon her more and more.   

	Now, six years later, Cordelia’s was so
many things to the vampire, he could hardly put his
feelings for her into words.   She was, by turn, his
backup in the fight against evil, his link to the
world of daylight that was forbidden to him.   She
was his representative to the outside world and his
source for news and information about his former
friends in Sunnydale.   Most importantly -- to
Angel at any rate -- Cordelia had become his most
beloved friend and confidant.   

	While Cordy played all those rolls in
Angel’s life, there was one part that she would
never fill -- that of his lover.    Sure, they both
found the other to be good looking.  In fact, if they
had been given a quarter for every time somebody
commented on what a handsome couple they made
together, they would both be rich.   

	No, it was not attractiveness that they
lacked together, but rather *attraction*.   Whatever
spark it was that ignited sexual tension between
two people was clearly missing in the chemistry of
their relationship.    Truth be told, Angel was more
than a little relieved by its absence and, although
she never stated as much, he suspected that Cordy
was, too.   Despite their friendship, she never
forgot that Angel was, indeed, a vampire, and
therefore, unsuitable boyfriend material.   Likewise,
as much as Angel cared for Cordelia, there were
times that her self-centeredness rose back up like a
demon from a Hellmouth.   He could not stand to
be around her when she was like that, especially
since that behavior reminded him so much of Buffy.

	‘You’re brooding again, you stupid
vampire,’ the ‘Cordy-voice’ in Angel’s mind
chided.   ‘What is it with you?  You really can’t
help it, can you?  You barely stand up from one
brood before you fall right down into another one.  
It’s like watching some demonic version of the
Three Stooges.   You’re
like...slapstick-brooding-vampire guy.’

	Surprisingly enough to Angel, the old adage
that ‘time heals all wounds’ seemed to be true, at
least where Buffy was concerned.    No longer did
mere thought of her send him spiraling down into a
well of emotional angst.    It wasn’t that he had
ceased to care entirely about his former lover, no,
not in the least.    Put simply, the flame between
them had merely died down to an ember, one that
he would only occasionally stoke in the back
corners of his mind.   

	‘Not tonight,’ Angel told himself, tucking
all thoughts of his former girlfriend back into their
proper place in the recesses of his memory.

	It was, he supposed, inevitable that Buffy
would come to mind.  After all, he had chosen to
return to the scene of the crime, so to speak.   But
he did have other memories of Sunnydale.   Some
of the best -- and worse -- moments of his long
existence had happened only a few miles away from
the place he was currently standing.

	The vampire remained lost in his thoughts
until the muted, dull throb in his leg flared into
sharp, shooting pains.   From the messages his
body was telegraphing via his nervous system, the
vampire suddenly realized that he had well and
truly overexerted himself with this walk of his.  
Coming to a sudden halt, Angel paused to take
stock of his location.    

	Swiveling his upper body around, the
vampire looked over his shoulder.   He was startled
when he realized just how far he had actually
walked.   The wooden ramp he descended down
earlier was no longer in sight -- not even with his
powerful vampiric night vision.   Chiding himself
for his own stupidity, Angel began the labored
process of turning around, a task sorely impeded by
his injuries.   Cursing his own clumsy movements,
the vampire set off again.   This time he headed
back the way he had so recently come.

	In the first few minutes of his return
journey, Angel occasionally came across remnants
of his own footprints in the sand.   The impressions
were in various stages of degradation, depending
upon where the waves had randomly swept up
along the shore.  Every now and then, he would
find a few of them unmolested by the water’s
touch.   Angel looked upon the unblemished marks
in the sand with a childlike sense of reverence.    It
may have seemed odd to a normal person, but to a
vampire who had not seen so much as his own
reflection for the past 226 years, it was simply
awe-inspiring.   In Angel’s mind, it was a testament
-- real, indelible proof that he actually existed.

	The vampire was so caught up in his study
of the sand, he almost missed the person standing
down the beach from him.   As it happened, the
only reason he noticed the interloper at all was the
glimmering flash of red that he caught out of the
corner of his eye.   Even so, it took a second for his
mind to process that the some*thing* he saw was
actually a some*one*.   So much for his predatory
instincts, Angel mused to himself.

	She was standing knee-deep in the water,
further out from Angel’s relatively dry position a
little higher on the beach.   She must not have
sensed his presence, Angel surmised, since she
remained facing out toward the open water.    The
vampire could not help but smile fondly at the sight
of her long, red hair flowing in the soft ocean
breeze.   Every time he saw a redhead, he always
thought of...

	‘Willow?’  Angel thought wildly.  ‘It
*couldn’t* be!  She’s still back East.’    Even as he
tried to dissuade himself of the notion, the vampire
knew without a doubt that the girl...no,
*woman*...standing before him was, indeed, his
old friend.  ‘What is she doing, here?’
 
	Although they spoke by phone and e-mail
every couple of months, it had been almost a year
and a half since the last time he had seen Willow in
person.    The occasion back then had been her
farewell party.   She had been leaving Sunnydale to
begin her post-graduate studies at M.I.T. -- which
was where, as far as Angel knew, she should have
been at that very moment.   

	Although her unexpected presence
surprised the vampire, he was thoroughly delighted
to have an opportunity to see her again.    Willow
still appeared to be unaware that she was no longer
alone on the beach.   Angel was about to call out to
her, to make her aware of his presence, when the
sound of her voice reached his ears.    

	“I guess you haven’t heard, but the
Hellmouth closed up shop a while ago,” Willow
called out loudly in order to be heard over the
sound of the crashing waves.   She did not,
however, turn around to face him.  Instead, she
stood her ground.   Perched on her right foot, she
idly -- almost disinterestedly -- swept her lower left
leg back and forth to create a swirling pattern in the
already churning tidal water.   

	Her voice was achingly familiar to Angel,
but the tone she spoke in was one he had never
before heard her use.    Although basically the
same, there was a sharpness to it, an edge that
warned this woman was not to messed with.   
About to call out to get her attention, Angel was
startled when she spoke a second time, still not
bothering so much as to glance in his direction.    

	“Take another step closer and they’ll need a
dustrag and a can of Pledge to pick up what’s left
of you.”

	‘How did she know...?’ Angel wondered,
both stunned and impressed by turns.   Either she
had grown powerful enough in the Wiccan arts to
sense the presence of one of his kind, or she had
already seen him approaching from a distance.   If
the latter thought was true, however, Angel had to
wonder why was she being so openly hostile
toward him.   Had he done something to anger her? 
How could he have, he had not even talked to her
since before he was...injured.   Perhaps that was the
problem.

	‘There’s only one way to find out,’ the
vampire reasoned.   Hoping to dispel any potential
tension Willow might have, he decided to announce
his presence with a touch of humor.

	“So,” Angel called out to the not-so-distant
figure.  As soon as Willow heard his voice, she
noticeably stiffened.   There was a short pause, as if
the petite redhead doubted her own hearing before
she pivoted around sharply to face him.   Ignoring
the incredulous expression on her face, Angel
continued speaking.  “What’s a nice witch like you
doing in a boring town like this?”

	“I could ask a vampire like you the same
thing,” she replied with a laugh of genuine
amusement. 

	“Well,” Angel replied, carrying on the joke
even further.  “I’ve heard the nightlife around here
is great, but personally, I don’t think it’s
as...interesting...as it used to be.”

	“Yeah.  Thank God!” Willow enthused.

	At the mention of the now-defunct
Hellmouth, an odd measure of silence seemed to
overcome both of the old friends.    For his part,
Angel was merely content to simply take in
Willow’s appearance.    She was dressed casually in
a calf-length peasant skirt.    At some point, the
young witch must have tacked the hem of the lower
garment up into the waistband in an effort to keep
it dry from the touch of the waves.   It lent Willow
an even greater air of childlike innocence than she
normally carried.   

	The effect, however, ended once Angel’s
eyes traveled up her lithe frame.    Unlike the
flowing material of her skirt, Willow’s shirt was
much more adult in fashion.    Between the
plunging neckline and the way the cut of the tight
fabric emphasized her curves, it was impossible to
ignore that fact that she was a full-grown woman.  
It was odd, the vampire noticed, that even though
Cordelia had many tops similar in style, his partner
never looked as...sensuous in them as Willow did.   

	To make matters worse -- or better, Angel
could not decide which it was --  the moonlight
made Willow’s pale skin appear almost
incandescent.    She looked even more beautiful
than he remembered, if that were possible.

	‘What *am* I thinking?’ Angel questioned
the direction his thoughts were taking. ‘This is
*Willow*, remember?  Buffy’s best friend?  The
one person in the past one hundred years who’s
been nice to me without wanting anything in
return?’

	Coming back from his mental meandering,
the vampire was embarrassed when he found
Willow staring at him questioningly.  It was only
then that he noticed something else.   Willow was
still rooted in the same place she had been since she
initially sensed his presence.  He wondered if she
was angry with him for not maintaining a better
correspondence.   Another possibility occurred to
Angel, one that upset him even more than his first
scenario.   After all this time, Willow wasn’t afraid
of him, was she?

	In the mire of his insecurities, one lone,
optimistic thought stood out above the morbid
possibilities.   Maybe, just maybe, Willow was
waiting for Angel to make the first move.   After
all, the vampire was never the most demonstrative
person on his *best* day, let alone the rest of the
time.

	Grasping onto the thought like a drowning
man clutching a life preserver, Angel took a giant
leap of faith.    All of his instincts were screaming
at him to run to her, to grab her in his arms and
spin her around like some scene out of an old
romantic movie.  He lifted one foot, fully intending
on meeting her halfway, when his body painfully
reminded him that it was not yet up to moving
quickly.

	His discomfort, however, was not simply
physical, but mental as well.   When it came down
to it, the thought of Willow seeing him…crippled,
bothered Angel.      It was silly, really, when he
thought about it.   Almost two hundred and fifty
years old, and he was still as susceptible to pride
and vanity as a typical teenager.   There had to be
another way, he reasoned.   Then he thought of
one.

	Instead of moving, Angel gave the redhead
a genuine smile – one that conveyed every ounce of
his true happiness at running into her again.    He
could feel the corners of his eyes crinkle as he
finally broke the silence between them that seemed
to stretch on endlessly.

	“I promise I won’t bite,” he teased.   Then,
without another word, Angel stretched out his arms
in a silent request.

	A huge grin broke out on Willow’s face,
one so bright, it could have illuminated an entire
city block.   Willow gave a loud ‘whoop’ before
accepting Angel’s open invitation.   Angel chuckled
out loud as he watched his old friend literally
bounce toward him.   Bracing himself as she
covered the last few feet between them, the
vampire bit back a groan of pain as she jumped up,
her feet dangling off the ground as she clung to his
neck.

	Angel’s hands were by no means idle.   He
wrapped them around her waist, in part to support,
but mostly just as a means to hold her tightly. 
Tilting his head slightly, the vampire pressed his
cheek against her silky hair.   As he held on to her,
Angel wondered how he could have forgotten just
how much he missed this exuberant girl’s presence
in his life.

	All good things, however, must come to an
end.   With his leg about to buckle under the strain
of the extra weight, Angel loosened his grip,
allowing her to slide down his body until her feet
were firmly on the sand.    He did, however, leave
his arms around her waist, refusing to let her go
completely.

	“It’s *so* good to see you, Angel,” she said
sincerely.   
	
	 “It’s good to see you, too, Willow,” Angel
reassured her, just in case she had any doubts.

	“I’m just, like, totally surprised, though,”
she replied with a dazzling grin.   “Of all the
possible people I would have guessed that I might run
into here, I have admit that you’re, like, the last
on the list.   Isn’t that silly?  I don’t know why I
might expect to see Buffy, or Cordy, or Giles, but
not you.   I mean, this was your home too.  I’ve
just thought that you were avoiding Sunnydale,
‘cause we all noticed that you kinda *never* come
here whenever you can get around it.”

	Caught by Willow’s plainly spoken truth,
Angel blanched.  Although he never admitted it,
even to himself, he *had* purposely stayed away
from the town, especially after the Slayerettes
successfully closed the Hellmouth.   With the portal
to Hell sealed for the next thousand years, and the
town virtually vampire-free, Angel found few
reasons to return.  Willow must have noticed his
distressed expression, because the next thing Angel
knew, she was verbally back-peddling like a
professional.

      “Oh, God!  I didn’t mean that the way it 
sounded.  I mean, I’m really happy to see you, 
it’s just that it’s like, *so* unexpected.”  Angel
smiled as Willow paused to take a breath.   Some
things, he mused silently, never changed, and as 
he gazed fondly at his rapidly speaking friend, he
prayed silently that she never would.

	“It’s okay, Willow,” Angel reassured.  “I
know what you mean…or what you meant…when
you said that, I mean…”  Realizing that he, too,
was rambling, the vampire abruptly stopped
speaking altogether.   

	A moment of total silence passed before
they both started laughing.    It seemed that
Willow’s galloping mouth had miraculously spread
to the normally silent vampire.

	“So, what *are* you doing here?”  Willow
reiterated her earlier question.

	“Believe it or not,  I’m just taking a break
from L.A. for a few days,” he answered.

	“Did Cordy come with you?”  Willow’s
face took on a hopeful expression.

	“No,” the vampire replied with an
apologetic shake of his head.  “She went down to
San Fran to visit her parents.” 

	“Oh,” the redhead considered the
information with a frown of puzzlement.   “I just
talked to her a few days ago, and she didn’t
mention anything about it.   In fact, she said
something about *not* being able to leave L.A. for
the next month or so.”

	“Things...changed,” Angel explained
vaguely.    He really preferred *not* discussing the
issue, so he simply changed the subject.   
“So what are *you* doing in Sunnydale.   I thought
your classes didn’t end for another three months.”

	“They don’t,” Willow confirmed.  “My
mom’s fiftieth birthday is tomorrow, and they’re
having a big party to celebrate it.”

	“It’s great that you came home for it,” the
vampire said in all honesty.   Not that he expected
anything less from her.   While Angel knew little
about her family life, he did know Willow and her
tremendous sense of obligation.   Perhaps that was
why her next words came as such a shock to him.

	“Believe me, I didn’t exactly want to
come,” she stated flatly.

	“Really?” Angel asked, startled by her
revelation.  “Why not?”

	“Lots of reasons,” she replied softly, at last
taking a step back from the vampire.

	Angel felt strangely bereft without Willow’s
comforting presence in his arms.  Silently, he
cursed himself for pushing the issue when his friend
was clearly unwilling to delve any further into it. 
Hoping to put Willow more at ease, the vampire
picked another, more neutral topic to discuss.

	“So how is school going?”

	“Good, actually,” Willow replied, obviously
perking up over the new subject.   “Graduation is
coming up fast, though, so I’m really under the gun
to get my thesis program finished.”

	“What kind of program is it?” Angel
inquired, honestly curious.   Computers were a new
hobby of his, thanks to Cordelia’s insistence that he
‘join the twentieth century before they got too far
into in the twenty-first.’   Although he was not --
and probably never would be -- anyway near
Willow’s level on the machines, he still enjoyed
working on them.

	“Officially, it’s a blueprint for a new kind of
interactive database,” she said simply.

	“And unofficially?” Angel inquired, picking
up on Willow’s unspoken prompt.

	“Unofficially?” Willow reiterated with a
conspiratorial raise of an eyebrow.   “Unofficially,
it more than just design schematics.   It’s an actual
working prototype.”

	“That’s great, Willow!” Angel enthused,
but he could not understand why she seemed so
secretive about her project.  “So why aren’t you
including the prototype in your thesis?”

	“Actually, it’s not the model that’s the big
deal, but the information I’ve put into the new
database,” she teased.

	“Well, don’t keep me waiting,” Angel
prompted good-naturedly.  

	“I’ve started filling the d-base with all
kinds of occult data -- and I mean *everything*, 
Angel.  Spells, demons, individual vampires, major 
cult figures, Slayers; you name it, it could be in
there.  And it will all easily cross-reference.   I
mean, think about it.   How much of our time on the
Hellmouth was spent reading and researching over 
and over again through the same old books?   This
database could easily cut research time into a 
fraction of what it is now.”

	It was impossible to misinterpret Willow’s
enthusiasm for her pet project, and Angel was
unable to prevent himself from sharing some of her
infectious happiness.   Nevertheless, the vampire
still had some misgivings about the concept as a
whole, particularly concerning the availability to
such a powerful tool.   If the database were to fall
into the wrong hands, such an incredible fount of
information could make a demon or vampire almost
unbeatable.   Rather than be the voice of doom,
Angel decided to approach his friend in a more
surreptitious manner.

	“Who would have access to something like
this?  Would it be available on the net?” 

	“Are you insane?” Willow questioned, her
eyes going wide.  “Put...dangerous...information
like this for every monster, vampire master, and
general psycho who has access to a modem?  You
must be kidding.”

	“No,” Angel back-pedaled.   “I...I just
wanted to make sure that you had thought this
through.”

	“Of course I thought it through,” Willow
huffed, a tad bit offended by her friend’s lack of
faith in her ethics.   “And for your information, it
wasn’t just me.   The Watchers Council isn’t
exactly...crazy about the idea, but Giles drummed
up enough support to at least fund half my research
grant.”

	It seemed logical to Angel that the
Watchers would, indeed, be greatly interested in
such a project.   Something else in Willow’s last
statement, however, struck the vampire.

	“What about the other half of your grant?”
Angel asked.  “Where did the rest of the money
come from?”

	“Believe it or not, the Salem Wicca Coven.”

	“You’re in touch with the Salem Coven?”
Angel asked, honestly impressed by the
achievement.   That particular group was the
oldest, most prestigious coven in the entire
country.   Its members had collectively forgotten
enough spells to fill a library the size of Giles’.   

	“Uh...I guess you could say that,” Willow
hedged.  “Actually, you could probably say that I’m
one of their apprentices, which is a little closer to
the truth.”

	“You were asked to join the Salem
Coven?”  Because of their reputation, they were
also one of the most exclusive when it came to
offering the coveted apprenticeships that eventually
led to full membership.   “That’s great, Willow, but
how…?” 

	“It was luck really, more than anything,” 
she explained.  “I went into the magic shop near the
campus, and the woman who runs it is a
full-fledged member.   She told me that my aura
was really…strong, and that she could see that I
had already been involved in some pretty…intense
fights against evil.  She brought me in front of the
Old Mothers, and they offered me a full
apprenticeship, but with school and everything else,
I had to say no.”

	“But you said…” Angel questioned,
puzzled by Willow’s conflicting stories.

	“Well,” Willow admitted sheepishly.  “The
Old Mothers said that I really needed formal
training or it could be…dangerous for me.” 

	“They’re probably right,” the vampire
admitted. That she was a natural adept was never in
question.  After all, how many times in the past had
he either seen or benefited from the tremendous
gift that Willow possessed?   The spell she
preformed to restore his soul was a perfect
example.   That she managed it at all was a miracle,
especially given her medical condition – or so
Cordelia told Angel a while ago.  “You’ve got a
real gift.  You know that, don’t you, Willow?   And
with the proper training you’re only going to
become more powerful.” 

	Embarrassed by the intensity of Angel’s
words, Willow lapsed into silence.   Not sure what
else to talk about, the vampire also chose to remain
quiet.   Together, the pair stared out over the
water, buffeted by the sounds of the waves rolling
up on the beach.

	“Listen,” Willow finally spoke, her hands
betraying her restlessness.  “Do you want to…take
a walk or something?”  

	“Uh,” Angel stalled, not quite sure how to
keep Willow from discovering the truth.  “I’m
uh…a little…tired.  It’s been a long couple of
days…you know?” 

	“Uh sure,” Willow began in an unconvinced
tone.  “I’m kinda tired, too, really.   It’s a long
flight from Boston to here.   Actually, I think I’m
gonna sit down for a while.”   With that said, the
redhead took a couple steps away from the water,
heading for the dryer sand above the shoreline.  
	
	Another flash of panic overwhelmed the
vampire as he watched her retreating form.  
Thanks to his injury, sitting was no longer a simple
task, but rather a painful chore that usually required
odd contortions and a small mountain of pillows.  
Yet, he could not remain standing.   For one thing,
Willow would most likely take such rudeness as a
personal slight, which was the last thing he wanted
to do.   More importantly, however, was the plain
fact that Angel’s leg was already shaking from
overexertion.  If he did not sit down soon, he was
liable to fall down anyway.

	Moving as quickly as his injury allowed, 
Angel attempted to cover as much ground as he
could while Willow’s back was still toward him.  
The vampire almost made it when the redhead
turned her head to look back in his direction.  
Hoping to divert her attention, Angel blurted out
the first distraction that came to his mind.

	“Look, a shooting star!”  The vampire
winced even as he spoke the words.   ‘That was the
*best* you could do?’

	“Where?” Willow exclaimed, turning her
head in the opposite direction in order to follow
Angel’s line of sight.

	 Taking two last, limping steps, Angel
reached his friend’s side.  Unfortunately, Willow
turned back around before he could attempt the
lengthy process of actually sitting down.   Stifling a
curse, the vampire began mentally searching for
another diversion.

	“How’s Amy doing?  Is she still living in the
Valley?” Willow asked, politely waiting for Angel
to take a seat before she did.   

	“Huh?” Angel muttered.  Even after nine
years of friendship, Willow’s non sequitors could
still throw him for a loop.   

	“Oh, sorry,” the redhead apologize,
realizing that she had gone off on a tangent.   “I
guess with seeing you again and all this talk about
magic, I couldn’t help but think about the time
Amy and I attached your soul to you permanently.”
  
	“She’s fine,” Angel assured.  “I’ve seen her
a few times over the past couple of months.”

	“Is she still helping you and Cordy out?”

	“Yeah,” the vampire nodded.  “She makes
the drive over whenever we need help with the
magic stuff.   She’s gotten pretty powerful herself.  
I still can’t believe that you two managed that spell,
by the way.”

	“What?” Willow questioned, finally giving
in and bending her knees in order to sink to the
sand.  “Making your soul permanent?”

	“Yeah,” Angel sighed.   Left with no other
option, the vampire had no choice but to sit.  
Keeping his lame limb slightly forward, Angel bent
the knee of his good leg and began lowering
himself to the ground.   Trying to keep up the
appearance of normalcy, the vampire continued to
speak as he moved.   “It really was above both your
levels at the time.”

	“But as long as it worked, it was worth it,”
Willow replied.  Her voice was somewhat
distracted.  Despite his best efforts, Angel could
feel Willow’s piercing green eyes trained on him,
watching his contortionist act with a puzzled
expression on her face.    Nevertheless, Willow
continued babbling on about his soul.   “I mean, I
was pretty sure that it worked...at the time.   Then
again, you would know for certain.   I mean, I’m
sure that you’ve tested it out by now...oh God!  I
can’t believe I just said that!  It really isn’t....” 


	Her apology, however, was too late.  
Startled by Willow’s unintentional indelicacy, the
vampire lost his balance about halfway through his
sitting maneuver.   Realizing that he was about to
fall, Angel’s arms pinwheeled uselessly in the air.   

	“...any of my business...what you do, and I
really didn’t...”  Willow continued to babble on,
seemingly unaware of the vampire’s impending fall.
	
	Preparing his body for what he knew would
be a jarring impact, Angel was startled when he
suddenly felt Willow’s thin frame slip underneath
one of his flailing arms.   Before he knew what was
happening, a deceptively slender arm wrapped itself
around Angel’s waist.   When that proved to be
inadequate to restore the vampire’s footing, a tiny
hand clasped the vampire’s wrist in an iron-tight
grip.   Once she managed to equally distributed
Angel’s weight, Willow bent her knees, supporting
her friend until he was safely seated on the sand.  
Most amazingly of all, to the vampire at any rate,
was the fact that she never once stopped her
charmingly long-winded apology.

	“...I’m so sorry.   Uh...okay, I’ll be quiet
now...that I’ve probably managed to make an even
bigger idiot out of myself,” Willow concluded as
she sank down next to him in the sand.

	‘What is she apologizing for?’ the vampire
asked himself silently.  So concerned was he over
his own plight, he had lost track of what Willow
was apologizing for.   While mentally reviewing
their prior conversation, Angel did his best to calm
both his frazzled nerves and his overtaxed body.   

	Then it hit him.

	“Willow!”  Angel admonished, recalling
exactly what she had said moments earlier.    The
vampire’s shock came not from the harmless
personal question but rather the person whom had
voiced said question.  He was having a difficult
time reconciling the sweet, naive girl -- who
blushed at the mere mention of kissing -- with
the...woman who was currently sitting next to him,
quizzing him on his sex life. 

	“I said I was sorry!” Willow said meekly,
refusing to meet her friend’s gaze..

	‘Ah, *there* she is,’ Angel smiled. 
‘*There’s* the cute little girl I remember.’ 

	A rush of nausea overwhelmed the vampire
the moment he realized that his inner-demon was
getting a thrill out of watching Willow squirm.  
Just the thought of the demon reacting in *any*
way at all to the young witch was totally abhorrent
to the part of Angel that was ensouled.  

	It was hardly surprising, though.   Willow’s
innocent nature attracted the evil that resided in
him.   Like all demons, his wanted nothing more
than to either corrupt or destroy everything it came
across that was pure.   That, more than anything
else, was the reason that he had chosen Willow to
be his first victim when he reverted back into
Angelus eight years ago.

	A wave of guilt overwhelmed the vampire
as that particular memory surfaced in his mind.  
Perhaps that was what caused him to speak his
next, totally unplanned, words.

	“It worked,” he blurted.

	“Huh?” Willow looked at him with a totally
clueless expression on her face.   “What worked?”

	“The...uh...spell,” Angel muttered, unable
to look her in the eye as he made his confession.

	“Of course it worked,” she exclaimed, as if
she were stating the obvious.   “The orb lit up just
like it was suppos...oh.   Oh!   You mean
*worked* as in *that* kind of worked.   Well,
that’s...good, I mean great!”   Although the
redhead attempted to interject enthusiasm into her
voice on the last part, Angel could hear the
hollowness in it.   Willow, however, kept right on
speaking.  “I...I didn’t know that you’d seen Buffy
after we...uh... did the spell.”

	“I...,” Angel paused, suddenly finding the
sand under his feet very fascinating.  
“...uh...haven’t...seen her.…”

	“Oh,” Willow replied absentmindedly.  The
thought of her best friend keeping such a
momentous secret from her bothered Willow, and
for that reason, she was only half-listening to what
the vampire said.    Perhaps that was why her
mouth gaped as the meaning of Angel’s admission
penetrated her conscious mind.  It did, however,
leave her uncertain as to how she should reply.  
“Wow, that’s...great.   It is great, isn’t it?”

	“Not really,” the vampire shrugged,
recalling how he allowed a beautiful client to
seduce him.   It was a typical one night stand -- the
frightened girl, the demonic assassins chasing her,
allowing her to stay at his apartment for her own
safety, the empty, mindless oblivion of meaningless
sex that followed.   Then, as soon as the case was
over, she paid her bill and walked away, without so
much as a backwards glance.   Any way that Angel
looked at it, it was far from his finest hour.

	“Oh.”  For some reason, Willow was unable
to look Angel in the eye.   “I’m sorry...I guess.”

	“Why are you sorry?” Angel asked,
honestly puzzled by her words.

	“I...I’m...not really sure,” she admitted.   “I
guess I’m sorry because your...you
still...didn’t...find...”

	“Don’t.”  The raw pain in Angel’s voice
startled the witch, and her eyes finally shot up to
meet his.

	“Don’t what?”

	“Don’t you ever be sorry for me, Willow,”
Angel clarified with such zeal that his friend
unconsciously leaned away from him.   Realizing
that his gruffness was frightening her, the vampire
was overwhelmed by a wave of guilt.   Trying to
defuse some the tension created by his outburst,
Angel decided to try some self-depreciation.  “You
don’t need to feel sorry for me because I think I do
that often enough for everyone.”

	Judging by the uncertainty he saw on
Willow’s face, Angel guessed that the redhead was
not quite sure how to interpret his last comment.  
Just when he was about to apologize, Willow
finally got the joke.    Her carefree, melodical
giggles were music to the vampire’s ears,
enchanting him with her unabashed amusement.  

	The echoes of their laughter were
swallowed by the gentle sounds of the waves
breaking on the shore.     Neither of them spoke
again for a while, both just enjoying both the night
and the company.    After a short time, Willow
began to absently dig a deep trench in the sand with
the heel of her right foot.

	“Trying to get to China or are you just
hoping the ground will swallow you whole?” Angel
chuckled aloud.   He was happy when Willow gave
him a cautious grin a moment later.

	“You know,” she smiled, “that’s actually
kind of funny now that the Hellmouth is closed.”

	“I take it that Giles and Buffy haven’t had
any luck in finding the actual sight of the Atlanta
Hellmouth, yet?”  Angel inquired.

	“No,” Willow confirmed.   “But they’re still
looking.”

	“I heard from Cordelia that Atlanta is
overrun with vampires lately,” he asked in a
concerned tone. 

	“Yeah,” she agreed.  “But you know how it
is.   Evil flocks to active Hellmouths like flies to
honey.”

	“Is Buffy managing okay?”

	“Oh, sure,” Willow replied with confidence.  
“When it comes down to it, Atlanta is no worse
than Sunnydale was.   Plus Buffy still has Giles and
the other new Slayer.”

	“Marti, right?” Angel asked, trying to recall
the sixteen year-old’s name.   Marti was called after
Faith, who never awoke from her five-year coma,
finally passed away.

	“Yup.  She’s really sweet, once you get
past all the facial jewelry,” Willow chuckled.   
Angel joined in, having heard from a revolted
Cordelia about the dozen or so piercings that
littered the new Slayer’s eyebrows, nose, tongue,
lip, and cheek.

	Despite her update on Buffy’s life, Angel
knew that there was an additional person in his
ex-girlfriend’s support circle that Willow had yet to
mention.   Unsure whether the omission was based
in uncertainty to his response or just simply to
spare his feelings, the vampire decided to bite the
proverbial bullet and ask outright.

	“Is Buffy still...with that guy?” Angel
questioned, absently running his fingers through the
sand as he spoke.  

	“Brian?” Willow supplied the name of the
Slayer’s boyfriend of two years.   Despite the
nonchalant tone Angel had spoken with, the witch
easily saw the vampire’s unease over this particular
subject.   While it was not the tortured expression
Angel used to get at any mention of his ex, it was 
apparent that he still cared about Buffy’s welfare.  
“Brian still helps her out with the Slaying stuff.  
Plus, Buffy is still working at his gym as a day job.”
  
	What Willow neglected to mention was that
Buffy had recently moved into Brian’s apartment as
well.   In her estimation, if Angel had not already
received that information from Cordelia, then he
really did not need to know.   There was, she
figured, little to be gained by pouring salt into old
wounds.   Willow was wondering if she should say
anything further on the topic when Angel saved her
the trouble by changing the subject.

	“So how’s Xander doing?” the vampire
inquired.
	
	“Oh, he and MaryAnn are just great,”
Willow smiled.

	In one of those weird, ironic twists that
Fate took such pleasure in doling out, Xander
Harris was the first of the Slayerettes to go into
semi-retirement from battling evil.    If the
Slayerettes were surprised when Xander announced
that he actually had a relationship that he had
successfully hidden from them, they were
absolutely stunned when they met the woman in
question.   

	Whomever they might have envisioned
Xander falling in love with, it certainly was not
MaryAnn Bradley.   Although fairly attractive, she
was much more plain than the usual type of women
Xander seemed to prefer.   Five years his senior,
MaryAnn came from a well-off family that owned a
chain of restaurants.   In fact, that was how the pair
first met one another -- back then she managed the
Sunnydale restaurant that Xander was working in
as a waiter.   

	“And Cassidy?” Angel asked with a proud
expression on his face.

	“Oh, you should just see her, Angel,”
Willow gushed about her four-year old
goddaughter.  “I have some pictures from my trip
out there last month in my...damn, I left my purse
in the car.   But she’s *huge* now.”

	“They’re supposed to come up and visit
next month,” Angel revealed with a gleam in his
eyes.    “I’m sure Xander’s looking forward to it
with his usual enthusiasm.”

	“You’re terrible.  You know that, right?”
Willow shook her head as she saw the evil smirk on
the vampire’s face.

	“I know,” he replied unabashedly.   “But is
it really my fault?” 

	The vampire was referring to yet another
one of life’s ironies.   Back when Cassidy was born,
Angel had no real intentions of going to Sunnydale
to see the baby.   It was not because of the past
tension between himself and Xander -- the two had
long since reached a comfortable truce.   In fact,
MaryAnn genuinely liked Angel, once she got used
to the fact that he was a vampire.    Put simply,
Angel had not wanted to visit because he knew it
would be a painful reminder of all the things he
could not have for himself.   But Cordy persisted,
and after a day of pleading, whining, cajoling, and
finally, threatening; the former May Queen got
what she wanted.

	Visiting hours were long since over by the
time the pair crept into the maternity ward at
Sunnydale Hospital.   Once inside, they found
MaryAnn cradling her newborn daughter.   After a
few minutes of standing in the back of the room
while Cordelia ‘ahhed’ and ‘cooed’, the new
mother asked Angel if he wanted to hold Cassidy
for a while.   The vampire’s shocked eyes flew
from MaryAnn to Xander, who simply shrugged his
assent after a moment of deliberation.   After
showing Angel how to properly support the baby’s
head and neck, for the first time in over two
centuries, the vampire cradled an infant in his arms. 
  
	They never could figure out what it was,
but something odd happened in that room that
night.   Angel was gently rocking the sleeping baby
when she suddenly awakened.   Like all newborns,
Cassidy lacked the muscle control to focus her eyes
upon anything -- at least up until that point.    It
only happened for a second, but for just a moment,
the tiny blue eyes looked straight into the rich,
chocolate brown of Angel’s before gently drifting
back into a peaceful slumber.   It was over in a
heartbeat, but for the vampire, a deep connection
had just been made.

	Having witnessed the unheard of event, all
of the adults in the room looked at each other in
shock.   Nobody could explain what had just
happened, but there was no doubt in any of their
mind’s that something special had just taken place.

	The bond that began that night in the
hospital only continued to grow.    From that point
on, Angel began doting on Cassidy.    Much to
Xander’s chagrin, in the months -- and years -- that
followed, the vampire took advantage of every
opportunity he received to see the little girl.   
Angel was forever bringing or mailing her presents.  
He knew he was parenting vicariously through
Cassidy, but no one -- not even Xander -- ever
dared to mention it aloud.

	The bond between the vampire and child
persevered, even when the Harris family moved to
Phoenix.    Much to Angel’s regret, MaryAnn and
Xander were chosen to open and manage the
newest addition to the family restaurant chain.  
Then disaster happened.   Just last year, Xander
and MaryAnn had been hospitalized following a
rather nasty car accident.   Angel had been the one
to drop everything, to fly down to Arizona in order
to comfort and look after Cassidy until her parents
fully recovered two months later.

	“Cordelia told me that Xander actually
shook your hand and said ‘thank you’ when he got
home after the accident,” Willow commented out
of nowhere.    

	“Are you reading my mind?” Angel
chuckled, both shocked and amused to discover
that Willow had known exactly what he had been
thinking.    

	“C’mon, Angel,” the redhead protested. 
“You gotta know we’re all immune to that ‘cryptic
guy’ act of yours by now.”

	“No, you’re not,” he retorted.  “I’ve just
lulled you all into a false sense of security.”

	Together they laughed over Angel’s useless
proclamation.   By the time their smiles finally
faded into memory-induced grins, both the witch
and the vampire found themselves staring at the
bright light of the low-hanging moon.   Seeing its
fullness filling the night sky brought back other
memories for the vampire.    Judging by her next
words, he was not alone in his thoughts.

	“It’s funny, but after all this time, I still
think of Oz whenever I see a full moon,” Willow
admitted.

	“Okay, that does it,” Angel growled
playfully.   “Once and for all -- *get out of my
head*!”     Despite his posturing, the vampire was
secretly pleased to learn that their thoughts were so
in synch.    “Have you heard from him lately?”

	“Oz?  I guess it’s been about a month since
the last time we talked,” she informed the vampire.  
“You’ve probably spoken to him more recently
than I have.”

	“Probably,” Angel confirmed.  Surprisingly
enough, when it came to the people he regularly
kept in touch with from Sunnydale, Oz was the
next person on the list after Cordelia.   

	In the first year after graduating high
school, Oz’s band, Dingoes Ate My Baby, played a
number of club dates in Los Angeles.   Since the
group was only modestly successfully in financial
terms, Angel took to inviting Oz to crash at his
apartment whenever the werewolf was in town.   

	It might have seemed like an odd
combination to some, but in all actually, the
vampire and the werewolf got along splendidly.   In
spite  -- or perhaps because --  of their supernatural
status, Oz and Angel were comfortable as
temporary roommates.   They both were a great
deal alike in personality -- quiet and intelligent.  
In addition, they both also knew firsthand what it 
was like to struggle against their respective evil
natures.      

	“Is he doing any better?”  Willow inquired,
never taking her eyes off the moon overhead.

	“From what he’s told me, I think he’s back
to his old self again,” Angel informed his
companion.    

	“I hope so,” the redhead sighed wistfully.  
“He deserves it after everything he’s been
through.”

	The past two years had proven to be a real
rough stretch of road for Oz.    After five years of
schlepping through club dates, the Dingoes finally
hit the big time.   Signed to a major label, the band
spent a solid year recording their first
studio-backed CD.    Oz and his bandmates were in
seventh heaven -- until reality came crashing down
all around them.

	In the past, the band had been in charge of
booking their own club dates.   Since the other
bandmembers had long ago figured out Oz’s secret,
they had no problem in scheduling around what
they jokingly called Oz’s ‘wolf days’.   The
managers from the record label, however, were
nowhere near as accommodating as his bandmates
had been.   They were given little or no choice as to
where and when they were to perform.  It was why
Oz ended up ‘calling in sick’ on the nights of his
transformation, even on the Dingoes’ first
semi-professional tour.    

	After four months and eight cancelled
shows, however, the promoters finally had enough.   
It came down to a hard choice:  either Oz had to
stop missing shows or the record company would
dissolve the band’s contract.   Once the news was
delivered, there was a confrontation among the
Dingoes’ members.  After a long, painful
deliberation it was reluctantly decided that the best
course of action was for Oz to leave the band.

	Oz did a lot of wandering around the
country in the months that followed.   Although his
residual checks from the sale of the Dingoes’ CD
kept money from becoming an immediate concern,
it did nothing to solve the werewolf’s other
problems.   Oz was twenty-four years old and had
no earthly idea of what to do with the rest of his
life.
	
	“So is he still in Chicago?” Willow asked.

	“Yes,” Angel answered.   “He’s been doing
a lot of studio work lately.”

	“It’s a good place for him to be,” Willow
agreed.   Chicago was the new hub for music, the
same way Seattle had been in the early 1990’s.

	“Do you...,” Angel began, then stopped
short.

	“Do I what?” Willow prompted.

	“No, it’s not important,” the vampire
verbally backtracked.

	“It was important enough for you to start,”
the redhead persevered.

	“No, really, it’s none of my business,”
Angel insisted.

	“Oh no,” Willow laughed.  “You can’t
throw something like that out there and then *not*
finish it!”

	“I...it’s...,”  he stumbled.

	“Just ask me, Angel,” Willow finally asked,
exasperated by his hesitation by that point in time.
	
	“Do you miss him?” The vampire asked the
question shyly, leaving the redhead little doubt that
he was simply referring to the friendship Willow
shared with her high school sweetheart.

	“Of course I miss him,” she answered
honestly.   “I mean, it hurt...a lot...when we broke
up, but I guess it was inevitable.  You remember
how it was that first year after graduation with him
in L.A. and me stuck back here in Sunnyhell.   We
were only an hour away and we still never saw
each other.”

	“Have you ever thought...maybe after you
graduate...you might...go to Chicago...”  Angel’s
voice trailed off, uncertain as to how she would
react to the unspoken part of his suggestion.

	“You mean to try to get back together with
him?” Willow attempted to clarify.

	“I...I’m not sure what I meant, exactly,” the
vampire admitted, only to be met by a puzzled
expression on Willow’s face.   “I guess...I’m just
curious.”

	“About what?”

	“What...you’re...going to do.   After you
graduate,” he asked shyly.
Angel was preparing himself to be teased by the
witch, or even worse, barraged with questions on
why he was so interested in her future plans. 
Willow, however, surprised him.

	“To tell you the truth, I’m not really sure
*what* I’m going to do,” Willow admitted.   “I’ve
had a lot of offers in the past couple of months --
and not just from computer firms, either.”

	“What kind of offers?” Angel asked.

	“Well there’s my apprenticeship with the
coven for starters,” she reminded the vampire.  
“And believe it or not, I got a formal invitation
from the Council to begin Watcher training.”

	“You’re kidding!” Angel said in
amazement.   Traditionally, Watcher jobs were
hereditary -- passing down the familial lines.   Like
the Salem Coven, it was rare that an ‘outsider’
would be approached to join the organization.   
That she had received offers from both spoke
volumes as to how unique and special Willow truly
was.   Turning to face her directly for the first time
since they sat down , Angel was reminded of just
how beautiful she looked in the soft moonlight.   
In that instant, something shifted in the tableau,
something that shocked Angel right to the core of
his being.   In fact, his attraction to her was
suddenly so severe, he almost forgot what he was
going to say.    “I...hadn’t heard.”

	‘What the hell?’  Angel asked himself,
wondering  where his sudden hyperawareness of
Willow was originating.   After all, he had known
her for years and had never reacted to her as he
was at that moment.   She was simply his friend, or
at least Angel hoped that she considered him such.  
Besides, Angel rationalized, if she had ever
been...interested in him that way she would have
shown it long before that particular point in time.

	‘Sure, just like *you* did?’   The ubiquitous
question came directly from that little nagging
voice in the back of the vampire’s mind.

	“I...um...asked Giles not to say anything.  
To *anybody*,” Willow added the last part,
knowing that Angel would understand what -- or
more to the point, whom -- she was implying.
	
	“Well, then,” Angel said, shocked by the
raw huskiness of his own voice.   There was little
he could do about it at the moment, though, since
he was drowning in her moonlit emerald eyes.   So
lost was he in the warm, inviting green of her irises,
he had to struggle hard to get the words out when
he finally spoke.   “I’m honoured...that...you...
would want...to...tell me.”

	As he forced the simple sentence from his
throat, Angel fought hard to break his gaze away
from Willow’s hypnotic eyes.   Eventually he did
manage to draw his eyes downward -- only to find
himself unable to stop staring at her mouth.   Time
seemed to stop altogether, at least until Willow’s
lips parted, unintentionally enticing him further.   
It was only then that Angel became aware that the
redhead’s breathing had picked up, right along with
her heartbeat.
	
	To the vampire’s amazement, her lips
seemed to beckon to him, growing closer and closer 
as the seconds passed.  Only when he felt the warm, 
soft tickle of her breath against his own face did 
Angel realize that, at some point, they had started 
drifting closer to each other.    

	‘Am I moving or is she?’ Angel wondered,
forcing himself to freeze in place.    Apparently
they had both been edging toward each other, for
Willow stopped at the same time that Angel did,
leaving him to speculate. ‘Is this what she wants, or
is it just wishful...hopeful thinking on my part?’

	Fighting his own desires, Angel’s eyes flew
up to meet Willow’s.  Across the scant inches that
now separated them, the vampire searched for
clues as to what he should do in the warm pools of
emerald green.    In the few seconds that had
passed, her eyes had darkened, a testament to her
awareness of what was happening between them.  
A slight gust of wind coming from Willow’s
direction carried upon it the faintest hint of vanilla
-- a scent the vampire had long associated with the
girl in front of him.

	But there was another scent in the night air,
one that immediately made Angel’s decision for
him -- one that prompted the vampire to ignore his
own uncertainty and self-doubt.    For in the air
was the tiniest hint of desire, proof-perfect that
Willow was in fact aware and interested in what
had unexpectedly sprung up between them.

	Despite the more...savage...prompting he
was receiving from his inner-demon, Angel acted
cautiously.    He approached Willow slowly, giving
her plenty of time to move away if she so decided.  
Angel kept his eyes open until the last possible
moment, searching for any wariness on Willow’s
part.    The redhead held her ground, however,
even surprising the vampire by leaning forward to
meet him halfway.    

	After an eternity, Angel’s lips finally
brushed against Willow’s.   It was tender, gentle --
more a brushing whisper than a kiss -- a quick
stolen moment before the vampire forced himself to
back away.    He did not go far, however, just
enough to be able to clearly look into her eyes.   

	The emerald orbs flickered opened, marred
by obvious confusion.   As expressive as ever,
Angel watched Willow’s emotions as they paraded
across her face.    In the span of single heartbeat, 
he saw everything he expected:  surprise and
happiness that quickly faded into misunderstanding
and disappointment.    Finally, Angel saw what he
was hoping for -- confidence and resolution.
Closing the distance between them, Willow
leaned forward and pressed her lips determinedly
against his. 

	It was at that moment that Angel’s world
exploded.

	To the vampire, Willow’s kiss was
earth-shattering.   Her lips reminded Angel of the
finest silk -- warm and soft to the touch.   
Adjusting his position, Angel eased forward even
further, increasing the amount of pressure as his
mouth hungrily met hers.    What began as a small,
hopeful spark of lust was quickly expanding into a
passionate out-of-control wildfire.  

	Following Willow’s lead, Angel undertook
a thorough exploration of her lips with his fervent,
closed-mouth kisses.   Every edge, every corner,
every spot of her luscious mouth was
consummately reviewed.   Knowing that this was
likely to be only a one-time lapse of judgement on
Willow’s part, Angel carefully stored the memory
of every iota of sensation in the deepest recesses of
his memory.   It would be one of those special
memories he could pull out and wax nostalgic on a
cold winter’s night...

	‘Oh God!’ Angel thought as he moaned
audibly.   Willow had suddenly upped the ante,
parting her lips ever so slightly.   To the lust-
filled vampire, however, her action was like an 
open invitation.

	Almost involuntarily, Angel not only
mirrored her action, but took it another step
forward as well.    Like a swimmer testing the
water, his tongue brushed forward, sweeping
gently across her pouty lower lip.    Groaning softly
at the new sensation, Willow opened her mouth a
little wider, encouraging the vampire’s explorations
without using words.

	Not that he needed much encouragement.

	Bringing his arms up to wrap around her
slender form, the vampire’s tongue pressed forward
past the threshold of Willow’s lips.   Once there, its
counterpart came forward, hesitantly sliding against
Angel’s for the first time.  Between the feeling of
her tongue dancing and swirling against his own
and the sweet taste of her on his lips, the vampire
was soon reeling from sensory overload.   

	Then, without any warning whatsoever,
Willow suddenly ended the kiss.   Bereft by the loss
of her mouth, Angel could not prevent the moan
that escaped his lips at her absence.    Opening his
eyes in order to find out what was happening,
Angel looked directly at the redhead.

	“Need...air,” Willow panted out in
explanation.    While Angel may not have needed to
breathe, his living partner was not as fortunate.  
The vampire’s long, thorough kisses had starved
Willow’s lungs of much needed oxygen.

	“Sorry,” Angel said sheepishly.

	“Don’t be...,” Willow shushed, placing a
placating hand on Angel’s right leg.   

	Unable to prevent it, her touch caused the
vampire to hiss sharply as pain shot through his
nervous system.    Immediately realizing that her
action had caused Angel’s distress, Willow pulled
her hand away as if it had been burned.    The
redhead looked worriedly at her friend, wondering
just what she had done to cause such a reaction.

	Angel, however, was not aware of her
scrutiny.    Instead his eyes were tightly shut as his
hands cradled his injured thigh.    It took him a
minute, but finally he managed to control both his
pain and his inner-demon, who kept trying to slip
out past Angel’s weakened defenses.

	Distracted by his internal battle, the vampire
failed to notice Willow’s prolonged lapse into total
silence.   The redhead appeared to be staring out
over the sand and the water, deeply lost in her own
thoughts.   Perhaps that was why she startled her
companion so greatly when she did finally speak.

	“What’s going on, Angel?” Willow said
bluntly.

	“Huh?” the vampire questioned
distractedly.

	“What’s going on?” she repeated, her tone
a pure vocalization of what Xander used to refer to
as ‘Willow’s resolve face’. “What’s happened?  
What aren’t you telling me?” 

	“Noth...,” Angel began to protest. 

	“Right,” she challenged.   “That’s why you
can’t sit down on your own.   What happened to
you, Angel?” 

        The denial that was on the tip of his tongue
quickly faded away after her ‘no bullshit’ tone
registered in his mind.   ‘She’s using this to avoid
thinking about what just happened between us,’ the
vampire realized with sudden clarity.  ‘She must be
disgusted by the thought that she kissed me -- a
vampire.   Okay, Willow.  I’ll play it your way,’ he
thought to himself.   In all actuality, Angel was,
too, more than a little relieved that she did not
want to discuss the matter at all.    He was still 
too confused to make heads or tails of it, especially
with his leg throbbing like it was.

	“It was a case, a real nasty one, too,” Angel
recounted softly.  “A man came into the office one
night saying that he heard that we might be able to
help him.”

	As the vampire spoke, Willow turned
slightly to look directly at him.   Knowing that he
had her full attention made continuing his story
both easier and more difficult by turns.   Putting
aside his nervousness, Angel nevertheless pressed
onward.

	“This guy, Jim Johnston, well, his son had
gone missing.   Johnson insisted that the kid --
Tommy -- had been kidnapped.   He’d even gone
to the police, but the police didn’t buy it,” Angel
said disgustedly.   “Mr. Johnston isn’t exactly the
richest guy in the world.  He’s a minimum wage
night janitor in an office building.   As soon as
police heard that, they miraculously concluded that
Tommy must have run away, since there was no
money, no ransom, and no motive.  Besides, the
kid had already been through juevie a couple of
times.   The cops played it off as just another
runaway thirteen year old in a city full of ‘em.”

	“I wasn’t going to take the case at first,”
Angel admitted guiltily.   “But Doyle came in and
suggested that it might be a good idea if I did.  
Once the father was gone, Doy told Cordy and I
that he’d been hearing rumors -- real low-key stuff
-- about a demon-worshipping cult that had set up
shop in L.A., so we decided to look into it.” 

	When Angel took a moment to pause,
Willow kept herself from pressing him for more
details.    She knew that there was much more of
the story forthcoming, and her instincts told her to
allow the vampire to tell it at his own pace.   It
seemed like forever before he finally found both the
words and the determination to continue.

	“It took us four days to track them down.  
They were using one of those unused underground
subway tunnels -- you know, the ones they build in
case of future expansion?” Angel clarified, sensing
more than seeing Willow’s nod of
acknowledgement.   “Doyle and I saw about thirty
of them when we scouted out the place -- along
with a dozen or so kids they were planning to
‘feed’ to the demon when its came for it’s tribute.  
I was all set to go in after them, but Doyle didn’t
want to run in half-cocked, so we left and called for
reinforcements.”

	“Amy?” Willow guessed.

	“And Whistler,” Angel supplied.   “They
were there by morning, so we decided to go in
when they would least expect it -- during the day.”

	“We pretty much went straight in the front
door.   Cordelia and Amy were supposed to get the
kids out while Doy, Whistler, and I went after the
cult members.   Only it didn’t quite happen that
way.”
	   
	The vampire retreated into silence,
obviously reliving some memory of the events that
he was describing.    Willow was sitting so close to
her friend, it would have been impossible for her to
miss the tremor that raced through Angel’s body.  
In a simple display of comfort, the redhead reached
out and placed her hand over one of Angel’s.   
Acknowledging the gesture, the vampire smiled
slightly as she entwined her long, elegant fingers
with his cold ones.

	“We never really considered that the demon
might already be there.   You should have seen it,
Willow,”Angel shuddered.  “It was bigger than the
Mayor was after he ascended -- and man, was it
*pissed* off.  As soon as it realized we were after
its food, it just went crazy.   It went after
everything in sight -- us, the kids, even its own
followers.   It was total chaos down there,” the
vampire’s voice began to take on a distant tone,
softening to almost a whisper.   “We were fighting
the cultists, they were fighting us, and the whole
time we were all trying to keep out of the path of
the demon.   Then...”

	Sensing Angel’s distress, Willow squeezed
his hand gently.   When the vampire did not
respond, she settled for running her only free digit,
her thumb, back and forth over the cool open flesh
of the back of his hand.   Whether or not it had the
soothing effect she was hoping for remained to be
seen.

	“The demon was big, almost as big as the
tunnel itself, so it didn’t have much room to
maneuver.    Eventually, all of its thrashing did
some damage to the ceiling.  I saw...I saw the
ceiling crack...right over the spot where Whistler
was fighting.    I tri...,” Angel choked, forcing him
to start again.  “I tried, I swear, I did.  I tried so
hard...,” his eyes grew distant, an odd expression
coming over his face as he remembered.  “I
ran...tried to push him...wasn’t fast enough.”

	“It’s okay, Angel.   It’s okay,” she soothed
while at the same time, wondering just what had
happened in that subway tunnel.   Leaning over,
Willow wrapped her free arm around Angel’s back.   
Resting her head on his shoulder, Willow did her
best to offer what little comfort she could.   She
doubted that Angel would want to continue on
with his story, but he surprised her.   Having had a
moment to pull himself together, his voice was
considerably calmer when he next spoke.

	“The ceiling was already collapsing when I
got to him.   We heard it...going, tried to run, but 
it all just happened too fast,” Angel recounted,
shaking his head at what he perceived as a personal
failure.

	“You got caught under the debris,” Willow
surmised.

	“Debris?” Angel snorted.  “No, debris
would have been easy.   What we got was a
one-ton concrete support beam right on top of us.”

	“Oh God, Angel!” Willow gasped. 
“What...how...?”

	“I guess we got lucky, if you could call it
that,” the vampire joked bitterly.   “It took out the
demon first and then broke into pieces.   Big
pieces, but pieces at any rate.   A big chunk of it
fell on me -- caught my hip and upper leg.  Pinned
me pretty well, too.   If it hadn’t been for the other
loose rubble underneath me...I...,” he trailed off,
shaking his head at the possibilities.    “I
don’t...remember much...after that.   At least, not
for a while, anyway.   Just kinda...flashes.   Cordy
screaming, Amy doing some kind of chant, a
healing spell Cordy told me later.  But they weren’t
seriously hurt.  Neither was Doyle.”

	“And...Whistler?” Willow asked softly, not
wanting to upset Angel anymore than she had to,
but needing to know what happened to the friendly
little demon.

	“I...I remember looking over and seeing him
lying there,” he recalled with some agitation.   “I
*thought* he was fine – unconscious, but fine -- at
least, as far as I could see.”

	“But...,” Willow prompted.

	“I didn’t...from where I was I couldn’t see
that his arm was caught under a huge section of
concrete.”

	“His arm?” She questioned.

	“Yeah,” Angel moved in order to provide
her with a visual.   Grabbing his arm right above his
elbow, he continued.   “From about here down was
completely crushed.”

	“God,” Willow winced sympathetically.  
“Is he...did he...?”

	“Yeah, he lost it,” Angel said softly,
relocating his hand from his arm to the sand now
that the demonstration was finished.   “They had
to...cut it off…completely in order to get him out
of there.”

	“Then he’s...?”

	“Still around?” Angel finished for her.  
“Yeah, the son of a bitch is fine.   Perfect, in
fact,”
he spat.

	“Wha...?” Willow questioned in evident
confusion.

	“He’s a full-blooded demon, Will,” Angel
explained somewhat abruptly.   Although he was
unaware he had used her nickname for the first
time, the fact did not escape Willow’s attention.  
“They don’t live by the same rules we do.   A little
spell here, a little magic there, two weeks in a
trance, and voile, one new arm, no problem.”

	“You’re saying that Whistler can actually
regenerate body parts?” Willow asked, totally
awestruck by the revelation.

	“There are a lot of things Whistler can do. 
You would, too, if you’d been kicked around as he
much as he has over the years,” Angel supplied. 
“We should all be so damned lucky.”

	“What about you?” Willow asked, after
hearing the venom in her friend’s last comment.  
“How did you get free?”

	“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,”
Angel’s eyes rolled heavenwards as he spoke.

	“Come on, Angel,” Willow protested.  
“You can’t stop now.”

	“They worked on Whistler first, getting him
out and sending him off with Amy so she could
help him with the spells he needed.    Once they
were done, Cordy and Doyle scavenged up some
pick axes and went to work, but it wasn’t enough.”

	“So what happened?”

	“I kept passing out from the pain,” he
admitted.   “Then the next thing I knew, I was
thinking that I was either hallucinating or in Hell
again, because I heard this voice saying,” Angel
paused, then began speaking with a hauntingly
familiar cockney accent.  “’Cor, well if this just
ain’t the bloody textbook definition of irony.   Talk
about the pot and the bloody kettle.   Concrete
looks good on you, peaches.’”

	“Spike?” Willow gasped in amazement.  

	“Spike,” Angel confirmed his childe’s
presence with a sour look.

	“I thought he was off in Europe with
Drusilla again,” she puzzled.

	“Yeah, join the club,” the vampire said with
a raise of his eyebrows.   “Turns out that Dru
missed the West Coast or something.”

	“So they were in L.A.?” Willow ventured in
amazement.

	“Tahoe, actually.”

	“Then how did they know what had
happened?”

	“Apparently Dru had one of her visions,”
Angel shrugged by way of explanation.

	“And Spike came to help you because of
it?” Willow said, amazed by Spike’s Samaritan act.

	“Hardly,” Angel replied absently,
remembering all too well how much his childe had
enjoyed gloating over his sire’s misfortune.   “From
what I found out later, Dru threatened to leave him
again if Spike didn’t  help me.   She thought
he...owed me...for betraying...Angelus with that
whole Acathla thing,” the vampire finished softly.  
Even after all this time, Angel still flinched
whenever he was reminded of his lapse into
soullessness.

	“But he *did* get you out?” Willow
clarified.
	
	“Yes,” Angel confirmed, not bothering to
mention that even with Spike’s vampiric strength, it
still took the better part of a day to free him from
the rubble.   Nor did the dark-haired vampire bring
up the extraordinary pleasure his childe took in
furthering Angel’s pain with his repeated
pick-strokes to break up the concrete.
	
	“So you got out, and now you’re on the
road to recovery,” Willow said cheerfully, as
optimistic as ever.   “I’m just surprised Cordelia
didn’t say...wait, Cordy said...just how long ago
did this happen?”

	“About three months,” Angel mumbled,
knowing full well that the petite redhead would go
ballistic at the admission.  She did not disappoint.

	“Three months!   And nobody told me? 
How could Cordy not...,” she raged.

	“Willow,” Angel uncharacteristically raised
his voice to get her attention.  “Cordy didn’t say
anything because I asked her not to...not to tell
*any* of you.”

	“Why?” Willow asked, her expression
speaking volumes of the hurt she felt over Angel’s
exclusion.  Unable to cope with the disappointment
he found in her eyes, Angel’s gaze settled upon the
moonlit water.   Knowing that Willow fully
expected -- and deserved -- an explanation, the
vampire gave into the inevitable.

	“I...we...,” the vampire stumbled, uncertain
as to explain the emotions he had been feeling at
the time.   “We...weren’t sure...I would...the
injuries were so severe, Will.    My back was
broken, my spinal cord damaged, my hip was
completely shattered and my leg...the bone
was...well, it wasn’t pretty.   We weren’t even sure
I was gonna make it, and then, it was pretty iffy
whether I’d be able to walk again.”

	“Oh Angel,” Willow said compassionately. 
“I’m so sorry.   But why didn’t you want the rest of
us to know?  We would have been there, we would
have helped...”

	“There was nothing any of you could have
done,” Angel interrupted.   What he did not want
to admit, even to himself was that, at the time, he
had doubted that any of them *would* have come.  

	“I would have helped, Angel.  You
should’ve known that,” Willow chastised.   “I
could have done some healing spells...”

	“Amy did some at the beginning...,” he
supplied.

	“Amy’s never been really adept with the
healing side of Wicca,” she reminded, before her
face lit up.   “If you’re still in pain, maybe I can
try.  I know a couple of spells that might help.”

	“That might be nice,” Angel admitted.   It
was mostly a psychosomatic reaction, but since he
began telling the story of how he was first injured,
his leg seemed to throb with ever-increasing
intensity.  “Maybe tomorrow, that is, if you’re
not...it you don’t have...,”

	“We can do it tomorrow if you want or
tonight if you need,” Willow volunteered.   “I’d
just have to run home and get some stuff.”

	“Not tonight, Will,” Angel shook his head.  
He was already too tired to even contemplate the
concept -- at least, that was what he tried to tell
himself.   In truth, however, somewhere deep
inside, the vampire wanted a reason to see her
again the following day, just in case she came to
her senses about what had happened between them
a short while ago.  Now that his confession was out 
of the way, Angel let his thoughts travel back to 
more recent events.

	Apparently, however, Willow was also
remembering what had just occurred, because all of
a sudden, Angel caught sight of an attractive blush
creeping up her face.   She must have felt him
staring intently at her, for she steadfastly kept her
eyes glued upon the rolling surf.   The vampire was
about to speak when Willow beat him to it.

	“Look, it’s...getting late, or early,
whatever,” she stumbled in her anxiousness.   

	“Will...,” Angel began, not quite willing to
let her off the hook just yet.   Not when he was
uncertain what kind of repercussions the kisses
they had shared were going to have on their
relationship.   Although the vampire was quite
frankly curious to see if what had happened was
simply a fluke or perhaps something more, he
refused to gamble their friendship on exploring the
possibilities.   Unless, of course, Willow wanted to
take that chance as well.   

	“I’m sure you’ve got to be tired, Angel,”
Willow interrupted him, still unable to meet his
penetrating gaze.   Her next words, however, made
great inroads at relieving the doubts that were
creeping into the vampire’s head.   “Besides, I’m
going to need to be well-rested if I’m going to do
that healing spell tomorrow.”

	A rare, mega-watt smile lit up the normally
broody vampire’s face.    Willow was standing up,
using the open palms of her hands to sweep away
the sand that clung to the back of her skirt.    When
she finally looked down and found Angel
unconsciously staring at her as she brushed off her
rear end, her complexion became even more red.  
She was not sure whether she was surprised,
saddened or humored to realize that men behaved
the same at eighteen or two-hundred-and-fifty.

	Rolling her eyes, the petite redhead leaned
down a little and offered Angel a hand.   It was an
offer that the vampire accepted with only a slight
bruising of his ego.    The truth was that Angel was
simply incapable of getting up on his own, at least
not with the sinking nature of the sandy beach.   As
it was, he almost pulled Willow down twice before
she managed to work a shoulder underneath his
arm.

	When they finally managed to get Angel
into an upright and vertical position, both witch
and vampire stopped to rest for a moment.  
Willow’s face was a little red, but this time the
cause was more exertion than self-consciousness.    
Shirking off his own embarrassment, Angel took
the steadying arm Willow offered, not because he
particularly needed her assistance, but rather just so
he had an excuse to be close to her again, for
however long it lasted.

	“Where did you park?” Willow questioned
for the sake of conversation.

	“Back at the hotel,” Angel answered with a
chuckle, at least until his companion began berating
him for his lapse of sanity.

	“You *walked* all the way out here!”
Willow exclaimed, making a pointed example of
staring at the awkward gait with which the vampire
limped.   “Are you sure some of that concrete
didn’t fall on your head, too?  My God, Angel, it’s
like four miles between here and town!   What
were you thinking?”  The vampire opened his
mouth to respond, but Willow resumed speaking
too quickly for him to get a word in edgewise.  
“My car’s just up ahead,” she prompted, “I’ll give
you a ride back to your hotel.”

	“Ah, would you mind stopping by the Hoya
Street beach entrance?  I...kinda...my shoes are
there,” Angel noted.

	“The things I do for you,” Willow said with
mock severity.  “So, ah, what’s it worth to ya?” she
finished with a scheming little grin.

	“Well,” Angel smiled, willing to play along. 
“Normally it wouldn’t be a big deal, but they’re my
favorites, and you know what a bitch it is to have
to break in new ones.   It always takes months
before I get them to ‘stealth mode’,” he joked.

	“Oh, well then I’d say that I have a definite
edge, then,” Willow teased with a raised eyebrow.  
“I’ll have to think about this.   After all, how often
do I get a vampire at such a disadvantage?”

	‘Anytime you smile at me like that,’ Angel
mentally sighed.   At least until he saw the
calculating expression that appeared out of
nowhere on Willow’s face.   It faded momentarily
into a look that spoke volumes of her uncertainty,
but the vampire was having too much fun with their
little game to let her forfeit so easily.

	“You have something in mind, I take it?”
Angel hinted.

	“Yes...no...no, it’s...no,” she finally
concluded.

	“What?”

	“It’s stupid, Angel, I...I would
never...subject you...,” she trailed off mysteriously.

	“What is it, Will?   You have a demon that
needs taking care of?  An ex-boyfriend you want
me to bite for you?   Your laundry?  What?” By the
time he was finished, Willow was giggling.

	“Okay, okay,” she held up the hand not
busy supporting Angel.   “I just
thought...maybe...no, you’d be bored...never
mind.”

	“Just. Name. It. Willow,” Angel demanded
slowly.

	“Would you...,” she paused, only to be
spurred on by the vampire’s rolling eyes.  
“Wouldyoubeinterestedincomingtothepartywithme
tomorrownight?” Willow finished in a rush. 

	“I’d be delighted to,” Angel answered
honestly, truly looking forward to having the
opportunity to see where this thing between them
might lead.   

	“Really?” Willow squeaked, obviously
shocked by the vampire’s hasty agreement.   

	“Really,” Angel confirm with a genuine
smile.   So what if he would have to reschedule his
appointment with Joyce Summers tomorrow night?  
So what if it would cost him a fortune to have a
suit chosen and delivered by the Personal Shopping
service at Nieman Marcus tomorrow?   So what if
he would be forced to eat a rubber chicken dinner
at the Sunnydale Country Club the following
evening?  So what if he was in for an entire evening
of pity-filled looks and embarrassing question? 
None of that mattered.

	In less than twenty-four hours, Angelus
Kieran O’Brien would be going on his first date
with Willow Ann Rosenberg.

	And that was all that mattered.


Finis

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